


November/December 2015 Tumblr drabbles

by Nutriyum_Addict



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Awkwardness, Babies, Christmas Fluff, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Making Out, Menstruation, Parenthood, Thanksgiving, Triplets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-10 08:06:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5577826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nutriyum_Addict/pseuds/Nutriyum_Addict
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles originally posted on tumbler, November 2015.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sick Day

Even though they’ve only been back together for two months, Ben knows it’s weird for Leslie to stay in bed later than he does, so really, that’s his first clue that something is out of the ordinary this January morning. In fact, she’s still in bed and buried under the covers when he gets out of the shower, has gotten dressed, and is back in his room.

As he steps closer to where his girlfriend is still sleeping, she kind of moans and then groggily opens her eyes to stare at him blankly.

“ _Ughhhhhhhh_.”

Well, that’s not a good noise. “Are you okay?”

Ben continues to watch as Leslie sits up slowly and then proceeds to frown, wrinkling her nose a few times and scrunching up her face, before a large and noisy sneeze escapes. Afterwards, her nose and mouth covered with her hand, she gives Ben a wide-eyed and helpless look until he grabs a few tissues from the dresser and holds them out to her quickly.

Once Leslie cleans up from her sneeze, she tries to hand him the kleenex but Ben grabs the garbage can by his desk, and offers it instead.

They had kissed and made out a lot yesterday on the couch since April and Andy were out, so sure, he’s probably already infected with whatever she has, but used tissue is still something he tries to avoid, even if it’s from someone’s nose that he loves.

“You’re sick,” Ben states the obvious sympathetically, as she tosses the tissues in the trash and moans again.

“What? No, I’m not. That was, uh…” Leslie pauses to cough and then continues, her voice all rough and scratching sounding.

Good lord, Ben thinks, how does she sound that bad? She seemed completely fine last night.

“It’s just a sniffle. Allergies? I’m alr–”

“No. Babe, I’m pretty sure you’re sick.” He reaches his hand out and lightly places it on her forehead. Yep, she definitely has a fever.

“Am I burning up?”

“Yes,” Ben responds with a nod.

“But, Ben…I can’t be sick, I have the Redenbacher neighborhood association event. I have work…I have a meeting with Chris this afternoon. I can’t miss–”

“Yes, you can. You’re sick and going to a campaign event and sneezing all over perspective supporters is probably not a good idea. I’ll just reschedule. It’s no problem. And besides, Chris is never going to agree to stay in the same room with you if you’re coughing and sneezing.”

“I’m not going to sneeze on supporters. Or Chris,” Leslie insists and then sneezes violently again.

Ben hands her another tissue and sits down on the bed.

“And I’m pretty sure everyone else at the Parks office will appreciate it if you don’t sneeze on them as well,” he adds.

“Well...they have all sneezed on me plenty of times. But anyway, I’m really not even sick. I have an amazing immune system. Ask anyone!”

“Leslie, I know you could probably go to the meeting and snap out of this for a few minutes and make a speech and sound incredible, I know you could. And you could definitely get through a day at work. But this is an easy event to reschedule and you _are_ sick, and as your campaign manager, I don’t think it’s a good idea to go and shake hands with a lot of people and get them all sick too.”

“But–-”

“And as your boyfriend,” he continues, “I want you to stay home in my bed and rest…so I can take care of you today.”

Leslie’s resolve-face softens at his words. “You want to take care of me?”

Ben smiles at her. Even with messy hair, a stuffed up nose, and dull, unfocused eyes she’s still so pretty. And amazing. And thankfully, his girlfriend again.

And clearly, clearly sick.

“I want to take care of you.”

Not only does he want to make her his family recipe for chicken noodle soup once more, but this time he also wants to go to the grocery store and get orange juice and more kleenex as well, and maybe some of those cold pills that make you feel all drowsy and warm.

He wants to make her tea and brush his lips across her fevery forehead and sit at his desk and work while she naps so he can be nearby in case she needs anything.

“That is so sweet.”

“I know,” Ben agrees, chuckling just a bit. “So, why don’t you–”

“Oh, look. Behind you!”

“What?” Ben makes a face but doesn’t turn around.

He’s pretty sure this is a trick. Leslie is obviously moved by his declaration of wanting to take care of her, but she’s still an incredibly driven and passionate workaholic–-he didn’t really think it would be that easy.

“It’s Michael Stipe and he’s–-”

“Okay, I don’t believe you but just out of curiosity, what was your plan here if I did turn around?”

Leslie pouts briefly and then tells him, “I was going to jump out of bed, run past you, and into the bathroom. Take a shower and go to the neighborhood association meeting without you.”

“Really? Because I don’t think that would have worked.”

“Oh, it would have worked,” she tells him, pausing to cough before she continues, “you’re easy enough to take down, Wyatt.”

“Alright, tell you what. Let’s try it. I’ll give you a thirty-second head start.”

“Okay,” Leslie answers.

“Okay.”

They stare at each other for about fifteen seconds as it becomes clearer and clearer to Ben that he’s not going to have to actually tackle her to keep her here.

“Am I not out of bed?”

He shakes his head and helps her lie back down and tucks her in all snuggily, pulling his plaid comforter right up to her chin. Then Ben kisses her hot, slightly sweaty forehead. “No.”

Once up, he grabs the whole tissue box and puts it on the bed beside her, makes sure the trash can is next to the bed as well, and also puts the remote in Leslie’s hand.

“Crap. I really thought I was halfway to the shower.”

“I know you did, honey. I’m going to go make you some tea and get you some ibuprofen. And then if you want, later I can bring you your laptop so you can do a little work, but you’re staying in bed today.”


	2. Five-Minute Drabble

“Well? What do you think?”

Ben looks up from his book, where he’s lying on the couch re-reading one of his favorites. And then he’s a little confused. I mean sure, it’s December 18th so he’s not that surprised that Leslie has on a holiday-influenced get-up, but then when he continues to take in her green turtle neck, short red dress thing, and her green and red tights he’s still a _bit_ surprised.

“I’m an elf!” She tells him enthusiastically before he can even guess.

“Alright.” He’s grinning without even having to pretend to be amused and intrigued by his goofball fiancée. “Why, babe?”

“Ron. He won a big fancy wood-working award and I’m going to go into the office tomorrow and sing him my _Merry Congratu-Christmas_! song.” As she says it she’s walking closer to him and Ben instinctively puts the book down and sits up, so Leslie can straddle his lap.

“Do you like the outfit?” She asks, before going in for a kiss.

“I like the outfit,” Ben confirms, as they touch noses and smile dopily at each other after kissing.

“Want to get on the naughty list with me?” She actually wiggles her eyebrows suggestively at him as she says it, and he laughs.

Ben really does want to do that, so he nods and kisses her peppermint-flavored lips again, sliding his hands up the outside of her thighs, taking the short red skirt up as he goes.


	3. What do you think of brussels sprouts?

He’s in some plaid pajama pants and a blue tee, when Ben steps out of the bathroom and Leslie assaults him with a completely unexpected question. Like, he’d be less surprised if she had asked him if he’d wanted to move to Mars.

“What do you think of this–brussels sprouts roasted with Parmesan cheese and garlic?”

“Just in general? Or for something specific?” Ben asks, throwing his discarded clothes in the over-flowing hamper inside the open closet.

He then attempts to get into bed beside her. But, it’s a bit of a challenge, because the bed is currently covered in cookbooks (a couple he recognizes as his own) and glossy food magazines and he finally manages to slide in next to her, under both the covers and the books and everything else.

Honestly, it’s not the first time he’s had to get comfortable around assorted projects, Leslie’s many binders, books, or even a pile of old VHS tapes crowding the bed.

“For Thanksgiving,” she clarifies, blue eyes sweeping over him impatiently as she waits for his answer.

Well, that information doesn’t help. Ben blinks a few times, before finally asking, “Um…for _our_ Thanksgiving?”

“Yes, babe,” she sighs, but still manages to give him a smile. “For everyone to eat.”

At that, he gets even more confused. “Wait. You want to make brussels sprouts? To eat? Alright, did you get replaced with a pod-Leslie while I was taking a shower, because–”

“Ben, it’s Thanksgiving and even though it pains me to say it, brussels sprouts are…a choice we can make. They’re in about half of these magazines,” she picks up a _Bon Appétit_ with a photo-perfect golden, roasted turkey on the cover. “So maybe we should have brussels sprouts. We don’t actually have to eat any. Does your mom like brussels sprouts?”

“I think so. Oh, and I know Chris does.”

“Yeah, so does Ann, but they’re not coming anymore.”

“What? Why?”

“They’re going to stay in Michigan. Ann’s mom is not doing well.”

“Oh, that’s…I’m sorry, honey.”

“Yeah. Me too,” she gives him a look that tells him she doesn’t want to talk about it right now, or she’ll cry–-probably both for Ann’s mom and for not being able to see Ann in a couple of weeks. So instead, she goes over the current guest list. “Now, it’s just your mom, your sister and her husband, my mom, maybe my mom’s gentleman-friend,” she pauses to raise an eyebrow at Ben before continuing, “April and Andy. And us. And the triplets.”

“That’s still a lot, but who’s going to eat the brussels sprouts?”

“Your mom.”

Ben laughs at that and yeah, he does feel a certain kind of justice at the thought of making his mother eat her brussels sprouts.

“Okay, sure. Babe, you know, we can also cater some of this or something. This is going to be a lot of work. I mean, I’m helping too, and I know my mom and Steph will want to pitch in, but we could probably buy a lot of this stuff already made.”

“No! It’s Thanksgiving, Ben! We can’t do that. Plus, it’s the babies first real Thanksgiving.”

He grins and moves closer to take her hand. Ben kisses it before he presses it against his flannel-covered thigh, making her smile as she squeezes gently. “Because they were too little to remember last year?” he guesses.

“Yes,” she nods. “And I know at twelve-and-a-half months, they’re going to be too little to remember this year too, but, I feel like we should try to make this one special, since last year all I could do was lay on the couch while you fed me turkey slices and I fed the babies.”

Ben laughs. Yeah, that was pretty much their Thanksgiving last year.

Well, there was also pie, because even a completely exhausted and still recovering from a c-section Leslie insisted on having pumpkin pie. And an apple pie. And a pecan pie. “That was an interesting holiday.”

“It was. I’m so glad our moms were here or we might not have even had that.”

“I know. It was insane, right? I vaguely remember trying to use the dishwasher to wash clothes at one point, and I think I put my phone in the freezer not once, but a couple of times. I was so stupidly sleep-deprived that whole first month, it’s amazing that we survived it.”

“I feel asleep while I was peeing that one morning,” she reminds him, making him laugh at the memory.

“Oh god, that was so funny. I was so confused when I walked in on you, just sitting there snoring.” It was maybe their second day home from the hospital, and her pajama pants had been down around her ankles, her head resting against the wall.

It had taken every once of willpower Ben had not to grab his phone and snap a picture of the scene–-it was hilariously adorable and of course, it’s not like he would have shown it to anyone besides her. But instead, he had gently woken her up and helped her back to bed, trying not to make her laugh because he knew it hurt her stitches when she did.

Leslie giggles now, even as she bats at his arm. “It wasn’t that funny.”

“Oh, alright,” but he’s still chuckling, even when he moves in for a kiss. “ _Pee-napping_ is not at all funny. You’re right.”

“Nope, not funny,” she manages to get out, poking him in the chest, before pressing her lips against his. Ben manages to pull her on top of him, right over the magazines and open cookbooks.

Things are just starting to get interesting, making out with cozy flannel pajama pants rubbing against one another, and giggly kisses turning into more, the kind of kisses that make Leslie moan into his mouth and Ben slowly start to push his hips into hers, when the baby monitor fills the room with a faint cry.

“Oh, oh, no,” Leslie mutters, as she pulls away but kisses his jaw just one more time.

“It’s okay, I got it,” Ben says, rolling them over so she’s tangled up in both the covers and her magazines, but he’s lifting off of her and getting off the bed, all before Leslie can even sit up.

“You sure?”

The cry is gaining volume and they both know that in a minute or two, they’ll have three wailing triplets instead of just one. And then it’s not a one-person job anymore, but they’ll both be changing a diaper or two and trying to soothe three grumpy babies back to sleep.

“Yeah, babe. Stay in bed. Pick a brussels sprouts recipe that my mom has to eat.”

“Oh, if he’s awake enough, bring him back to cuddle for a few minutes.”

“Yeah,” Ben smiles, “Okay.”


	4. The Shoe Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello. This is the silliest thing I have ever written (maybe). Thank you, _Master of None._

“Hey, um, honey. Did you by any chance…” Leslie stops and makes a face. In her three and a half years as a parent, this is kind of an unexpected twist. So, rather than say anything else, she just takes the shoe in her hand, one of Ben’s nice black ones, and holds it out to him.

“Did I what?” He walks closer to the leather loafer in her hand and studies it. And then he makes a very confused face. He sniffs the air and quickly moves back. “Good lord. Is that…?”

Leslie nods quickly. “I think so. Yeah.”

“In my shoe? But how…wait a minute. Before, um, were you about to ask me if I did that? In my own shoe?”

“Well, it is your shoe, babe.”

“Yeah. Exactly. It’s my shoe. Why would I do that in my shoe?”

“Well, don’t look at me. I didn’t do it!” Leslie tells him, trying not to laugh. She also tries to hand him the shoe, which Ben makes no effort to take from her. In fact, he kind of backs away.

“Someone pooped in my shoe?” He looks incredulous. “In my shoe? In that shoe.”

Leslie nods. “Yeah. I think so. There is poop in this shoe, yes.”

She gives up trying to hand him his defiled footwear and just slowly puts it down on the floor.

“Do we have a secret pet that I don’t know about?”

Leslie shakes her head while they both continue to stare at one another, then back down at the shoe. “No. And if it wasn’t you or me, I’m thinking maybe it has to be one of our three year-olds.”

It’s certainly not a stretch (at least she doesn’t think so), but Ben’s eyes widen in surprise. “You think one of the kids…did _that_ in my shoe. What? Why? Why would–”

“Well, all the books do say that potty training is a process, maybe this is just a slight step back.”

“But in my shoe? Are any of your shoes–”

“Nope. Just this one. I checked them all.”

Ben sits down on the bed. “Alright. Which one do you think…”

“Stephen?” She guesses.

“Yeah,” Ben sighs, “that’s who I was going to say too.”

It’s then that Leslie can’t really hold it in any longer and starts giggling. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, it’s not funny but, babe, it also is a little. Your shoe has a turd in it.”

“You seem to be acting like you think it’s pretty funny.”

“Sorry,” she repeats and of course, she is sorry, but she also snorts a little while trying to stop laughing. Leslie puts her hand over her mouth. Crap, she thinks…and then laughs harder.

“No, it’s…” Ben trails off, rubbing his forehead. “Well, I’m not going to say that it’s funny, but it is a bit comically unexpected. I mean, of all the things I thought one of my kids would do one day, take a dump in my shoe was not one of them.” After he says it, Ben starts with a slow chuckle, that quickly grows into a full-on laugh.

“How did he…I mean…do you think he just squatted over my shoe and…”

“Let it rip,” Leslie supplies, making them both giggle even more. She gets her phone out of her pocket and snaps a picture of the shoe where it sits on the floor.

“Seriously, babe? This?”

Leslie shrugs. Scrapbooking is about documenting precious memories–both the good and the bad and the unexpected. Ben may have natural scrapbooking instincts, but he’s just not at her level.

But then her husband’s face grows serious with a slight frown. “Do you think…I mean…”

“What?” Leslie sits down on the bed beside him.

“Does he not like me or something?” Ben asks her softly. “Is he trying to tell me some–”

“Oh, babe. No. I am sure that is not it. I know that Stephen loves you so, so much.”

“Yeah, but…” he trails off, looking at something in the hallway. When Leslie turns her head, she sees what he’s looking at–their suspected little _shoe-pooper_ peeking into their bedroom and giggling.

“Stephen? Come here, please,” Ben says, using a fairly serious but still gentle tone.

And like always, no matter the situation with the kids, he’s calm and reassuring, whether it’s someone out of bed trying to sneak a cookie, a finger-painting masterpiece on the wall, or…this.

Honestly, Leslie is fairly in awe of this skill of Ben’s and she supposes it’s mostly due to his relationship with his own father–how most of the time growing up, Ben has told her that his dad seemed pretty terrifying, so he makes an extra effort to always be very patient and kind with their kids.

Well and also Ben seems to just naturally be a really amazing dad.

The little boy enters the bedroom, still giggling but looking just a little bit sheepish, glancing at the shoe on the floor and then back up at his parents.

“Honey, did you do that?” Leslie points to the shoe.

Stephen continues to laugh while nodding. “Surprise!”

Ben reaches out and tugs Stephen closer. “You know that’s not where that goes, right? Because that’s not a happy surprise.”

“But daddy, your shoe is nice. And it won’t eat me like the bathroom wants to eat me.”

Ben frowns, exchanging a look with Leslie.

“What would eat you? Are you scared of the bathroom?”

Stephen nods, no longer laughing but looking like a serious little boy that realizes that he’s done something wrong. And really, it’s one of Leslie’s fears, that with three kids, one of them won’t get the extra attention they need for something. Maybe with Stephen, who seems to be the most sensitive of their three little monsters, it was potty training?

“Does daddy’s shoe make you feel safe, honey?” Leslie asks, giving Ben another look as they try to get to the bottom of this.

Stephen nods again and then tries to crawl into Ben’s lap. And Leslie’s heart pretty much melts right then and there.

“Come here,” Ben says, as Leslie watches him wrap his arms protectively around their son. “How about this. You come get me or mommy or Roz when you need to go to the whiz palace and we leave my shoes alone?” Ben pauses. “Or maybe you could use one of mommy’s–”

Leslie puts her phone away from taking another photo of this adorable scene and hits him lightly on the arm before he can finish that sentence.

“No. No more shoes, okay? I know you can be a big boy.”

Stephen leans up and whispers something in Ben’s ear. She can’t hear what it is, but suspects it’s an apology because Ben smiles and tells the little boy, “it’s okay. We can clean it up together.”

“And we are not at all going to share the poop-shoe photo with your future spouse one day,” Leslie adds, ruffling her son’s hair, even as Ben mouths, _yes we are_ , to her as he hugs Stephen closer.


	5. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: I wish you would write a fic where Ben takes care of Leslie after her c-section :)

“Hey, honey?”

She feels Ben first, before her brain deciphers his actual words.

He’s rubbing her arm gently and when she opens her eyes, he’s right there, sitting on the bed next to her, looking at her with a concerned expression on his face. His messy hair is all sticking up and Ben has slight bags under his warm brown eyes.

“Hi. I had the weirdest dream.”

“Oh, yeah. What?”

“We had triplets and…” she trails off and stares at Ben until he starts grinning at her like a sleep-deprived lunatic. Leslie laughs quietly. “Oh wait–”

“That wasn’t a dream, babe,” he finishes, still smiling and taking her hand so they can entwine fingers.

“I know. I want to go look at them again,” she tells him, as he helps her sit up.

After five days, she’s to the point where she can sit up by herself, but it’s nice to have his assistance too. And it still definitely helps having Ben’s hand on her hip and back as she slowly goes from sitting to standing.

“Then we go on a walk,” he tells her, as they cross the bedroom and gaze down at the small, (thankfully) still sleeping babies, each swaddled up and in their own small bassinet.

“I’m walking right now,” Leslie responds, reaching down to place her palm gently on Sonia’s little tummy. “They’re so beautiful. We made them Ben.”

“I know.” His words are accented with a kiss against the side of her temple. “Come on, we have a bit of time before we feed them and our moms are here. Let’s go down to the end of the block and back.”

“Beennnnn. It’s too cold out.”

He laughs quietly beside her while still also tugging her hand. “We’ll bundle up.”

“Why don’t we do it later?”

“Let’s do it now. Come on. Twice a day, we walk down to the end of the block. You need to walk a little each day, honey.”

“I know.”

Since she’s been home from the hospital the last day, Ben has been by her side practically the whole time. Checking her healing incision site, propping her up with pillows, bringing her babies to nurse, trying to get her to eat bananas and drink milk and do other healthy things. He’s even folded and refolded their growing collection of baby blankets at least a half a dozen times in the last twenty-four hours.

It’s sweet and cute, but god, she really does not want to go walk down to the end of the block…even if she is supposed to be getting up and moving around regularly.

Soon, he’s pulling her warm purple and blue knit hat down over her head, even as she tries to think up a good excuse to not have to leave the warmth of their bedroom.

“If you walk down to the end of the block with me, I’ll bring you up some chocolate later.”

Under the watchful eye of both her mom and Julia Wyatt, Leslie’s been subsisting on _healthy new mom food_ for the last day. In a show of solidarity, Ben’s even been eating green beans and spinach and everything else that she’s been given, even though Leslie knows he probably wants nothing more than to sneak down to Ray’s and get himself a chicken parm sub.

“A cupcake. Double chocolate. From _You’re Bakin’ Me Crazy_.”

Ben considers her request. “That’s all the way on the other end of town.”

“Yep, it’s right next to Ray’s Sub Shop,” Leslie says leadingly, being sure to give Ben a slightly sloppy wink.

She sees the wheels in his brain start to turn as he quirks an eyebrow at her.

“You want to split a chicken parmesan sub too? I’ll sneak it up with the cupcake when they aren't looking.”

Leslie nods vigorously, so forcefully that her sore lower belly starts to throb lightly. “Ow.”

“You okay?” His hands are on her arms and he’s trying to support her against him and it’s all so sweet that she just wants to cry. Again.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she manages to get out, before the tears start coming and he’s surrounding her in a gentle, light hug, his hand rubbing her back, all while being careful not to press against her abdomen. “I just really want….to split a …chicken parm with you. I love you so much. And I love cupcakes. And the babies too…Ben.”


	6. Binder: Sonia gets her period and I’m not home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: Hi, I love your stories! Can you write about Sonia getting her period when Leslie is out of town and Ben has to deal with it? :)

He was kind of surprised (and secretly relieved) when Sonia yelled at Stephen to “shut up, butthead!” at the breakfast table, when her brother kept singing _Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer_ in a silly, high-pitched voice over and over. But, Ben’s even more surprised now, when his twelve year-old daughter comes over and sits next to him on the couch a few hours later, leaning her head against his shoulder, and saying, “daddy, I don’t feel good,” in a quiet voice.

It had been at least two years since she’s added the _dy_ onto dad, so he closes his laptop and puts a hand gently to her forehead, taking her words very seriously.

She doesn’t feel like she has a fever.

“Are you getting sick, honey? What hurts?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t know,” Sonia sighs, all long blonde hair and tired, sleepy eyes, looking like she’s going to start crying any second. “When’s mom coming home?”

“Tomorrow. You know that. What’s–”

“ _IthinkIgotmyperiod_ ,” Sonia says out in a rush.

Ben’s eyes widen. He blinks a couple of times. He did not expect that. “Oh. Um. Alright,” he stares at her, not quite knowing what to do or say to help her. “Are you okay? Do you feel…bad?”

He pauses, trying something that used to always work for Leslie. “Do you want cookies? I can make cookies.”

“I don’t know,” Sonia answers and then bursts into tears. “I tried to call mom but I got her voicemail and–”

Ben pulls his sobbing daughter into a big hug.

“Oh, she’s presenting her talk in her session right now, it’s okay. Shhhhhh. It’s over in,” Ben pauses to look at his watch. “About forty minutes. We can call her as soon as she’s done, okay? Or, if it’s an emergency, we can call–”

No,“ Sonia sniffles against him as her rubs her back. “It’s not an emergency. It’s okay. I can wait.”

“Do you need something to, um…”

“I’m fine right now,” she answers and he easily decides to take her word for it.

There’s only so many details he wants or needs when it comes to his daughter’s vagina.

“Oh, wait,” Ben says suddenly, sitting up straight and taking Sonia with him. “Sorry. I just remembered something that will help. Come on.”

She looks confused as he leads her up the stairs and into his and Leslie’s room, but follows anyway.

When they get to their destination, Sonia sits on the bed while Ben opens up one of the closets and looks through a shelf full of binders, reading the labels as he goes.

Finally, between _Clown attack at a birthday party_ and the actually-used-once-when-the-triplets-were-four, _One of the kids sticks something up their nose_ tomes, he finds it–a slim red binder with _Sonia gets her period and I’m not home_ typed out down the side.

“Oh thank god,” Ben mutters, pulling the binder down.

“Mom made a binder for this?” Sonia guesses, wiping at her eyes and staring at him as he sits down on the bed next to her.

“Yes. I kind of thought she was being ridiculous, but…” he trails off as he opens it up.

_BEN:_

_If you are reading this, it means that our baby has become a woman and I am on a business trip and not home. At least I hope I am on a trip somewhere and not dead…that would be really sad._

_Okay, let’s just go with business trip._

_Please do not freak out or get flustered, it’s completely natural–-_

Ben sighs. “I know that, babe,” he says to the binder, as Sonia reads over his shoulder and giggles quietly, making him smile and start to feel a bit better too.

_I’ve made you a mix CD for when you talk to Sonia (see insert 3A) and also, there are a couple of pads and tampons in insert Four._

Ben flips through the binder and pulls the rings open, just handing the whole plastic page protector labeled Four with its feminine hygiene products inside to his daughter. There’s also a small chocolate bar in there, that Ben assumes (hopes?) is for eating.

Then he flips back to the introduction.

_Please have her call me (because I am not dead) and also give her a big hug. Tell her we love her and are very proud of her and that her uterus is doing exactly what it’s supposed to be doing and that it’s all completely normal._

_She can read through pages three through twenty-five for more details._

_Ben, there’s a shopping list for you in Appendix B._

He turns to Sonia with a smile. “Your mom and I love you very much and we’re very proud of you.”

By the time he hugs her and kisses the top of her head, they are both laughing. “And you read the other part over my shoulder, so that too.”

“Thanks.”

Ben runs his hand along her arm and gives Sonia a light squeeze, before pulling the shopping list out for himself and passing the binder over to his daughter.

Should he say something else? He feels like he should say something else.

“I’m sure that everything you need to know until you can talk to mom is in there, but, um, if you have any questions or if you want me to get you some Advil or…I don’t know, I mean, you know you can ask me anything if you have questions or tell me if something is…um, not working right, right?”

“It’s okay, dad,” she says, wiping at her eyes again and gripping the binder. “I think…this will be okay. I’ll call mom in–”

“Thirty minutes,” Ben says quickly and they both smile.

“I’ll just take this to my room and read through it,” she shrugs, “and maybe listen to the CD.”

“That sounds good.”

“Oh, um, dad? Would you really make cookies?”

Ben studies her face, and good lord, she does maybe look a bit different? Of course, still totally beautiful and amazing and his absolute favorite daughter, but…they’re all just growing up so fast and most of the time it makes him so happy and proud, but also, every so often it makes his heart break just a little bit.

He has to wipe at his own eyes before he nods. “Yes. I would really make cookies.”

“Chocolate chip?”

“You got it, kiddo.”

A few minutes later, when Ben is measuring out the flour and sugar, he realizes that Leslie is probably going to use this to point out to him how important her binder system is (and really, he can’t disagree with her there) and also, how he owes her binders on how to deal with wet dreams or too much masturbating, if he’s out of town when an issue arises with Stephen or Wesley.

While the cookies are in the oven, he doesn’t exactly start working on a formal binder for her, but Ben does sit down and make a few bullet points for Leslie just in case.

When Sonia hands him her Gryzzl tablet a few minutes later, Leslie’s beautiful and tear-stained face on the screen, Ben smiles and tells his wife truthfully that her binder saved the day.

And also how much he loves her.


	7. Decorating the Tree

Ben watches as Leslie and Stephen hang a sparkly ornament on an upper branch of the tree.

“What a good spot you chose,” Leslie tells their son, as the thirteen month old laughs and turns in his mother’s arms.

Ben waves to his son from his spot on the sofa, with Wesley and Sonia on each side of him, as Leslie puts Stephen down, takes his little hand, and they walk (well, Stephen kind of toddles) back over to the couch.

“Okay,” Leslie says, helping her son climb up on the cushions and then into Ben’s lap with a giggly and excited “dada!”

“Whose turn is it?”

Ben looks between their other two kids.

“Sonia,” he guesses. He’s like 99% sure that it’s Sonia’s turn.

“Come on, my little munchkin, help mommy hang an ornament on the tree.”

“You realize this is going to take hours, right?” Ben asks, as Leslie helps the little girl carefully choose a soft felt penguin wearing a small holiday wreath from the box of baby-friendly decorations, and then walk over to the tree.

Leslie’s been alternating with the kids, each picking an ornament and placing it on the tree while she lifts them up or helps a little hand find a lower branch. At first, they had tried to just let all three kids go at once, but that kind of turned into mass chaos with ornaments ending up in pants and in shoes and dropped on the floor.

But now after twenty-five minutes, their seven-foot tree currently only has eight ornaments on it. And one small green sock. Ben looks down and yep…Wesley has one bare foot.

“Do you have somewhere else to be, babe?” Leslie asks in answer to his question, turning around to look at him with a huge grin on her face.

Ben laughs, as Wes cuddles into his lap along with his brother, both toddlers hugging into their dad and talking silly nonsense words to each other.

“Nope. Absolutely nowhere else to be,” Ben answers truthfully, deciding that it really doesn’t matter if this takes six hours and the kids fall asleep before it’s even half done. Because honestly, there is nothing else he’d rather be doing, Ben thinks, wrapping an arm around each son and tickling gently until they giggle and squirm.


End file.
